As You Wish

Regardless of what happened in her life, there was one constant Sereda Aeducan held as a mantra in her mind: face all with dignity and honor. She could not recall who it was that had planted this saying, this sense of honor so deeply in her mind. Had it been her good father, King Endrin? Or had she read it somewhere in her studies? She could not recall, but the source mattered little to her- only its meaning.

She had always believed the truest ruler was the one who cared for their people as their family, their companions. It was because of that the human throne was granted to Alistair. It was because of that belief that she trusted her brothers. It was because of that faith she found herself betrayed. She knew as soon as Bhelen and her father saw her standing by Trian's corpse, there was no fighting the outcome. She had been politically outplayed by a man ruthless for the throne. She killed the retainer that had spoken against her out of sheer spite, to demonstrate the wrath of a dwarven princess betrayed, but in her own defense, she remained silent. She appealed to her father's knowledge of her nature, but said nothing further in protest.

It's strange. she mused, walking through the streets of the Diamond Quarter for what she knew would be the final time. The last time I was locked into the Deep Roads was when I faced exile.

She could still recall the weariness of her father's face as he handed down her sentence. Stripped of her name, title, armor, all but a basic sword that wouldn't even hack its way into the Provings, she showed no emotion as the heavy stone doors closed and sealed her in.

From that moment forward, though she did upgrade her weaponry, she never allowed herself the luxury of armor. Armor was worthy only of a strong, powerful dwarven queen- a warrior to lead the people. She less than both, so long as her exile stood. Sereda knew for certain one day she would return and claim the throne that, with Trian dead, was hers by blood. And when she did, Bhelen would know precsely whom he had been foolish enough to cross. Until then, she would work and fight with only the clothes on her back and weapons she picked up from monsters slain along the way.

And the day of her return eventually came. She feigned niceties with her brother, supporting him and gaining the Anvil of the Void to forge an army of golems to defend dwarvenkind. And then, just when it appeared her brother was poised for victory, she handed the crown to Harrowmont. He was gravely injured for his attempt at a coup, but was not killed. Sereda saw to it that he was placed in prison. Admittedly, she took a great deal of pleasure in putting his soul to the Anvil when she finally ousted Harrowmont and took over as the rightful queen.

As queen, she was known as a woman who made certain her will was translated into action if it was for the benefit of all parties involved. A husand and children? What need had she of those hindrances? She was determined her reign would be remembered on her own merits, not on the merit of the men she mated with and produced. So, beautiful as her dark and strong features were, there were none who would carry them.

There was only one man I was ever willing to marry regardless... she thought to herself, her dark grey eyes the only thing belying the regret beneath a mask of stoicism. And he chose to marry another on the surface. Yet he is the only person who has any true loyalty to me. I shall see how deeply that loyalty runs as soon as I reach the Deep Roads.

Sereda nodded briefly at the men standing guard at the doors to the Deep Roads. They sank into one final bow for her, then pulled them open. Standing just within the stone doors was a man who had always stood by her side. The queen felt relieved at the sight. Even if they were never again connected in the same way they had once been, he had always remained loyal to her.

Gorim bowed his head respectfully to his queen before raising his eyes to meet her. He had a few more wrinkles than when last they fought together, limped on a bad leg, and had quite a bit more grey in his sandy beard and hair, but he looked much the same as always. "Are you prepared to depart, my Paragon?"

Sereda nodded in response. "Let it be done."

She turned back with Gorim to face the city of Orzammar's ambient amber light for one final time. She surveyed the city as he surveyed her, the woman who had always been too high for him to reach. He watched the light of the city tinge the silver streaks of her dark brown hair a fiery orange, looking upon the ever-composed features of her face.

Sereda did not react as Gorim took her hand, though the tellingly intimate gesture meant more to her than she was willing to express publicly. The view of her kingdom became smaller and smaller as the doors slowly came to a final close before her.

Queen and retainer turned as one to look upon the endless roads of darkspawn that awaited them. Sereda's face showed not joy, but a sense of quiet relief at the thought of the honorable, glorious battle and death that awaited her. For in that fighting, she and Gorim would find an end- and at last, a place in the Stone.

"Gorim," she began, looking him in the eye, "thank you. For being such a loyal ally. Let us be off. To death and victory!"

The old, blond dwarf smiled and bowed to his queen. "As you wish, my Paragon."

Regardless of what treacherous monsters the Deep Roads would spew from its foulest depths, it did not matter. In death, as in love and life, Sereda had dignity and the companionship of her most faithful servant.